


When You Stay Up Late To Suffocate Your Mind

by noblet



Category: Fake News RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Phone Call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblet/pseuds/noblet
Summary: Jon's first few months atThe Daily Showare not easy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song Pregame by Active Bird Community.

It is four a.m. when Jon has to stop himself from reaching for the phone. 

He catches himself halfway between the bedside table where the landline rests and the bed and it feels strange to be so self-aware. Because calling Stephen over the past few months has turned to shameless muscle memory. For better or for worse, Jon isn't quite sure.

He stops himself because he's sure tonight will be the last. Because he knows Stephen must be so _sick_ of him, because Jon is just another thing he has to put up with.

He'd flip a coin if he had one but instead he pulls his arm back and stares at the ceiling.

Maybe Stephen won't be mad.

Maybe he's still awake.

Or, maybe Stephen’s in the same predicament as Jon, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating calling him up instead.

That would earn a laugh.

 _Fuck it_ , Jon thinks. He's used that phrase to decide a lot of things lately and for some reason it doesn’t bother him all that much.

He reaches for the phone in one swift motion and dials Stephen just as quickly. Waves of anxiety wash over him until Stephen picks up on the third ring, and Jon's breathing returns to normal.

“M- Jon?”

“I- couldn't sleep.”

“S’alright.”

Jon wonders if Stephen puts his glasses on when he's talking on the phone, if his room is dark or not, if he's sitting up or lying down. Jon likes to fret over tiny details like that. There’s something comforting about knowing that makes Stephen feel _real._

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.” Jon hears the clink of a glass and realizes Stephen must be in the kitchen.

“You haven’t slept for days, have you?” Stephen asks, and it’s not really a question, but it’s not a really a statement either. Jon has no idea how he can sound both empathetic and cocky at the same time.

He manages a laugh. “What gave me away?”

“Your cheery disposition,” Stephen deadpans. “I- When are you coming back to work?”

And the question is almost enough to knock Jon off his place.

Because _fuck_ , the fact that he asked means Stephen actually  _cares._

"I- don't know," Jon says. "I've been in this-this mood lately." His excuse is an understatement.

He clenches his jaw and waits for the inevitable, the phrase he's heard from teachers and ex-friends and therapists and any person who's ever pretended to give a shit about him throughout his life.

"Let's talk about it."

And it's like he's a teenager again, angsty and drowning in self-pity but still defensive as ever and Jon has to close his eyes and think before he says something stupid. _You've really come a long way, Stewart._

He opens them again and stares at the ceiling. _If Stephen didn't want to talk he wouldn't have answered the phone,_ Jon reasons.

So maybe he is willing to listen. But then again, maybe he's not.

And Jon can't do it. Not right now, at four a.m., alone in his apartment for the millionth night in a row, no. This has to be done in person.

"Tired," Jon lies. "I'll tell you-" He makes a decision quick in his mind. "I'll come in tomorrow, I guess."

"Really?"

“I'll try my best," he says without thinking. "Goodnight. Hearing your voice helped,” he continues. _I love you._ And he will never say that last part.  
  
“Goodnight,” Stephen echoes. “See you tomorrow,” he adds, and it almost sounds like he’s telling a joke. Same delivery, same pause between lines like he's waiting for laughter. Jon just nods to an empty room.

He thinks about Stephen's "tomorrow" long after he hangs up the phone. It sounds like a promise, concrete, definite. Jon closes his eyes and wonders if it's one he'll be able to keep.


End file.
